


Kell Dane

by Sarcastic_Metaphor



Series: Shades of Magic AUs [2]
Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: AU, Astrid and Athos are still creepy, Memory Loss, Not Beta Read, Rhy only wants to help, Self-Indulgent, in this fic Kell is a Sad Boy, inspired by one of my other fanfics lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Metaphor/pseuds/Sarcastic_Metaphor
Summary: AU where Kell was born in White London.





	Kell Dane

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another idea I had that I really wanted to explore. I thought if the Maresh family adopted Kell, what if he was born in White London and the Danes did the same? (What doesn't help is Astrid's canon fascination with Kell in the first book.) (Also there’s no Holland in this because I just wanted to focus on Kell, besides he’s pretty much this AU’s version of Holland.) I had a lot of fun writing this, so leave a comment if you like it! 
> 
> Also, if you'd like some context, I'd imagine that this takes place sometime before/during ADSOM because I haven't read any of the other books yet.

_“Oh little brother..._ where did you go?” The echoing voice sang.

Kell winced and hurried to get his many-sided coat on.

He thought bitterly, _As if you didn’t already know._

A faint phantom pain burned in his chest as he hurried down the hall. His footsteps echoed across the stone floor and for once, he didn’t bother trying to hide his presence. He let his steps carry the sound of his arrival, turning a corner and seeing his queen, Astrid Dane, pretend to be surprised by his presence.

She turned around in a slow, almost lazy spin and smiled up at him, baring her pearly white teeth. Despite being about half a head shorter than him, Astrid reached up to cup his face, fingers running almost lovingly under his pitch black eye. Her hand moved up to twirl a finger around a lock of his dark red hair. (He never understood this fixation of hers. Kell supposed she must have liked how his hair was almost the color of blood.)

“Oh, Kell, where have you been?”

“Getting ready to leave, your Majesty.”

Her smile faded and her eyes darkened. She stared at him and without saying anything, tugged in his hair just a bit too hard to be playful.

Kell hardly winced.

“What was that, _little brother?”_

He silently groaned.

“Apologies, _sister.”_

That got her to smile again. She let go of him and they walked to the throne room together. Astrid practically kicked open one of the doors before striding inside, Kell dutifully at her heels.

“Have you finished your half of that letter, Athos?”

The king of Kell’s London sat almost relaxed on his throne. He nodded and held up an envelope sealed with a blotch of gray wax between two fingers. Kell approached the throne, back straight and chin up. He tried not to appear as relaxed as his rulers, despite the inherent slouch in his shoulders. His world didn’t take kindly to weakness, and neither did they.

Kell approached his king and took the envelope.

“Remember, Kell…”

Kell supposed he should have known it was coming, but he was hoping that it wasn’t necessary by now.

Quick as a viper, Astrid took Kell’s wrist in both of his hands. Kell felt a sharp burst of energy erupt from the touch. It shot up his arm in a second, making him shutter at the sudden pain. But he didn’t crumple to his knees like the first time. He didn’t even drop the letter. Kell distantly heard Athos _tut_ from his throne, disapproving of Astrid but not stopping her. Mercifully, as soon as it came, the abrupt pain ended, leaving Kell’s wrist burning and his shoulder stiff. Despite it, Kell didn’t look away from his queen, his sister.

 “...we’re expecting you for dinner.”

Kell nodded. He raised his head slightly. “I understand. I won’t be late.”

He quickly pocketed the letter and left the throne room, leaving his _sister_ and _brother_ to do as they pleased. Not that he could ever stop them.

* * *

The Scored Bone was hardly the inviting establishment, but the barkeep always nodded to him when he entered. Today, Kell didn’t bother to return the gesture. He made his way to the Scorched Bone’s back alley, a place just a bit more private than the side of th building. There was less chance of beggars or cutthroats when the back of the bar had a decently high fence and Kell made haste.

He took out his knife and drew up his sleeve, careful not to draw blood where Athos’s memory rune laid scarred into his skin. His _older_ _brother_ hadn’t been very happy when it looked like Kell tried to break the seal. He also tried not to look at the initials _K.L._ carved into the knife.

With his blood, Kell drew his own rune on the wall and murmured, _“As Travars”_.

The white around him exploded into an obscenely vibrant red.

* * *

Kell has been to Red London many times by now and he still wasn’t used to the sheer over-abundance of the land. The air was perfumed with the scent of flowers to the point where Kell sometimes gagged. The river glowed red with purified magic, so much of it that Kell knew total anarchy would erupt in his world if they ever had such a source. Astrid called this the “lucky, selfish” world with people as soft as flower petals. She wasn’t exactly wrong.

But at least here, Kell was safe. His flesh and blood were safe.

He traveled through the city streets, using his red jacket to blend in. When crossing the bridge over the Isle, Kell took his time to savor how phenomenally colorful the sunset was in this world. He savored the hues of red and pink and yellow with light that dazzled across the windows and river, appearing every day.

And meanwhile, one would be hard-pressed to find something as vibrant as Kell’s jacket in his world.  

The trek across the bridge eventually came to an end and the Red London castle loomed over him. His first time here, Kell couldn’t wrap his head around the absence of high walls, guard towers, and fortified windows.

Kell nodded at the guards standing outside and they let him in. Before he could greet the king, Kell heard the pace of feet trying to be silent. His fingers itched wrap around his knife, just for habit’s sake, but he had a good inclination as to who it was.

He turned at the last moment, bowing curtly for the Prince of Arnes.

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, and this time I thought I thought I had you.”

Kell raised himself and resumed making his way to the throne room, knowing Rhy would fall into step beside him.

Folding his hands in front of him, he asked, “How are you, your Highness?”

“I thought I told you to call me Rhy.”

“It wouldn’t be proper.”

The prince waved at him dismissively.

“Haven’t you known me for years now? I think that warrants the use of first names.”

Kell faltered slightly in his step. He felt a brief flash of cold, hungry, desperate _want_ before crushing it down and attempting to calm himself. He glanced over at the Prince, voice cold even to himself.

“I wouldn’t know.”

The Prince’s face fell, and for a moment Kell felt bad, but it was the truth. Astrid and Athos has apparently not wanted whoever Kell used to be. Athos’s rune prevented him from even learning of his past. Even his name was wiped away, leaving him with nothing but the initials on his knife. It was a brutal memory rune as well, made to force Kell to forget whatever he has learned. Prince Rhy must have told him his real name more times than he could count and it would always slip from his memory within moments. Written word was no better, and Kell couldn’t even smuggle a piece of paper with his true name on it for the fear of the Dane twins finding it.

It was hauntingly tempting and painfully bitter to be surrounded by people who knew who he once was but not be able to remember what they knew.

But he should know to look past that.

He was Kell Dane now. The younger brother of Astrid and Athos Dane. The prized jewel of the White monarchy. Kell wanted to accept this new life but the Red Prince seemed intent on forcing him to find memories that he didn’t have.

The two of them finally reached the throne room. When they entered, Kell bowed before the royals, hoping he could get this over with quickly. He kissed the queen’s hand and gave them the letter. As the king silently read, Queen Emira looked him over.

“How are you, Kell?”

“Fine, your Majesty. I trust that your kingdom is in good health?”

It always was. It always will be. It was Red London, after all.

Before Kell could leave with the king’s response, Queen Emira asked, “Rhy tells me that your birthday is soon.”

Kell blinked and stared at the queen. His blue eye darted toward Prince Rhy, standing at the side of his mother and fidgeting with a sort of anxious optimism.

_I wouldn’t know._

“Is it?” Kell asked, more for himself than anyone else, “Time seems to escape me these days.”

Kell hasn’t truly had a birthday since the Danes took the throne. Many in White London didn’t even celebrate the day of their birth, only those important or strong enough to warrant it did. And Kell once more wondered who he was if _Prince Rhy_ of all people knew when his birthday was.

Kell ignored how the prince visibly deflated. How close were they before the Danes?

“I really should be going now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He didn’t belong here, but didn’t want to go home. Rhy followed him out of the throne room. They walked side by side until they reached the massive oak doors of the castle. Rhy paused before hesitantly speaking.

“Sorry for bringing up your past. And I do wish you’d stay a little while longer.”

Kell sighed softly. He turned to face the Prince, who he didn’t expect to be biting his lip and looking so remorseful. He felt a slight pang of guilt for being so short with the Prince; it wasn’t his fault that Kell couldn’t remember anything, or that he was tethered to others.

“No need to apologize, P- _Rhy._ I promise to return as soon as possible.”

The Prince seemed to brighten up considerably when Kell used his actual name. They embraced, or at least the Prince hugged Kell, and then the _Antari_ left.

As he descended the steps to the castle, Kell thought about how the promise he made wasn’t hollow. Astrid and Athos were so confident in the compelling seal etched into his flesh that they sometimes let him wander away for his own pleasure. So long as he behaved and made it back by their deadline. But today wasn’t one of those days. Today was a business day, and the Dane twins should still assume that he was busy with the Red royalty. Kell put his hands in his pockets and very deliberately made his way through the streets of Red London, heading towards the Ruby Fields.

Fauna, the old woman who ran the place, nodded at him as he passed her by. She too knew him from before the Danes, although Kell had no idea how. But she pitied him and gave him the room at the top of the stairs. He told her it would be for when he needed to stay in this world overnight.

Kell made sure the door was locked once he was inside, and double-checked that the door and windows all had their ruins intact. Kell couldn’t afford it if anything in this room was discovered by anyone.

Once he was sure he was safe, Kell breathed the first easy breath that came to him since setting foot in this world. He closed his eyes and let his forehead rest on the old wooden door. He had to remind himself that he was safe here. No Astrid, no Athos, no one but him.

Then Kell opened his eyes and turned around. The room had a bed and a nightstand, but the other walls were lined high with bookshelves. Tables were littered with open books, notes, and bottles of ink. Kell approached one of the tables, looking through his primary journal to see where he last left off.

Athos was a cunning bastard. His seals were unique, complex, and hard to decipher. And here, in that little room in Red London, were all the notes and research Kell has compiled in the hopes of breaking the seals. Books from White and Red London alike adorned the bookshelves, some notes and even entire journals full of information taken from the Red castle’s library. But no one else knew what was hidden in this room.

And Kell had to keep it that way.

He sat at the table, working and reading and trying to understand what exactly Athos had done to him. He made some progress in deciphering a portion of the extensive memory rune that laid on Kell’s arm, but by then, nearly an hour had passed and Kell couldn’t afford much more time.

He tugged on his jacket and left. On the way out, he tried to give Fauna a bit of silver stolen from the White castle’s treasury, but she declined. She always declined.

Kell’s heart hammered in his chest as he prepared to return home. He had to remind himself that there was no way that Athos and Astrid would know, that if they did, they would have stopped him months ago when he began. But they never did, and never would if he was careful.

And with that, Kell whispered, “As Travars”, and returned to his colorless home.

* * *

Dinner in White London’s castle was startlingly sparse for royalty. Most meals consisted of weakly seasoned poultry or game, with stew and bread and wine. However, the _amount_ of food could have easily fed more than just the three of them. When Kell entered the dining hall, Astrid and Athos looked up from their end of the table and Kell could tell that thankfully, he wasn’t late.

Athos leisurely twirled a knife in his hands. “What took so long? The food’s almost gone cold.”

Or so he had thought.

Kell took his seat quickly.

“I’m sorry. The prince insisted I stayed for a drink.”

Athos looked at him sharply. “He did, did he?”

Both of them took in Kell’s incredibly sober appearance.

“I only had one,” Kell lied, “He really just wanted an excuse to pester me.”

That seemed to be enough for the twins at the moment. Athos eventually decided that food was more important than words.

Kell sat stiffly and watched as Athos became the first to touch the food. He casually ripped the flesh from the cooked bird on the table. Astrid followed by pouring herself some wine and Kell waited for them to fill up their plates before taking anything himself.

Finally, he got his share of food. Kell tried to eat with as much gusto as his siblings while knowing full well what delicacies existed in the neighboring kingdom. But food was still food, and at least here, there was a tentative peace while people ate.

* * *

“I think,” Astrid said once their stomachs were full, “I’d like a different sort of drink.”

Athos swallowed the last of the wine in his goblet and nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind you sharing.”

Kell’s wrists throbbed and he gripped his knees under the table like a child.

“You had one yesterday.”

Athos smirked at him, with something equally greedy and loving in his eyes. He slowly raised his hand and curled one finger.

_Come._

It was abnormally strong this time, despite Athos’s lazy motion.

It was like a hook around Kell’s soul and he jerked forward in his seat. Kell’s hands shot out to steady himself before he could spill anything on the table.

“We said we wanted a drink.”

Kell kept his head down, letting his bangs fall into his eyes. He took a deep breath in and out before standing up.

 _It could be worse, it could be worse, it could be so much worse,_ Kell repeated to himself.

As he approached Athos, his steps were still his own. Drawing the knife from his side was still his own action. Sliding the blade across his forearm was his own action. Watching it fill up Athos’s goblet was his own action.

He could be a mindless slave like one of the guards. He could have his free will taken from him. _He could have his soul taken from him._ But in a way, having his mind and will intact while still being compelled was worse. He had to do this all himself.

Kell watched as Athos took the first sip, watched the way his blood lingered on his brother’s lips, before handing over the cup to Astrid. She drank and her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, a look of utter bliss on her face. Kell dabbed at his cut with a clean cloth as the twins traded the cup back and forth. When they finished, Athos set the cup down.

“Hm, I was wondering if I was going to be able to taste the alcohol in your blood.”

Kell feigned nonchalance. “I highly doubt one drink would be enough.”

“His magic is drink enough,” Astrid commented.

She leaned back in her chair and noticed how Kell still pressed the darkening cloth to his wrist.

“You’re excused, little brother.”

Kell nodded and left the room maybe a little too quickly.

* * *

“Do you think he’s hiding something?”

Athos nodded as the two of them walked down the halls. The sun had set and their city was growing with what life it still had.

“Your little brother is awful at lying.”

Astrid jabbed his ribs with her elbow and glared at him.

 _“Our_ little brother. You wanted him just as much as I did.”

Athos snorted. Yes, he felt a fascination with the boy and his power, but not nearly as much as his sister. She didn’t even think the compelling seal was necessary when they first _adopted_ him.

What an irritating argument that was.

* * *

" _Just change his memories around a bit.”_

_“I can make him forget, but I’m not wasting the energy needed to make new memories.”_

_A pause. Then they debated back and forth while Kell, who back then still remembered his real name, laid bloody and beaten and bound at their feet. He watched them argue over him with wide, terrified eyes._

_“Fine then,” Astrid eventually conceded, “Use the compelling seal.”_

_Athos grinned wickedly as he began cutting away at Kell’s shirt. The_ Antari _tried to fight back while still bound but ultimately, Athos’s magic had won. It was a beautiful thing, to hear that young_ Antari _scream._

_And after that day, the Dane twins gained the throne, a little brother, and a new pet._

_Their prince, their precious Kell Dane._

* * *

“Don't make me do this to you, Kell.”

“I’m not making you do anything.”

Suddenly, there was a blade pressed underneath Kell’s chin. He was forced to look up from his position kneeling on the stone floor. The enchanted iron chains tethering his wrists to his sides were threatening to chafe him until his skin bled.

Athos knelt in front of him, eyes alight with sadistic joy.

“What a tongue you have, _little brother._ I wonder where you get it from.”

Kell tugged at his chains, hating how he had let himself kneel in the first place.

“Your older sister is upset. She thinks that maybe you’re hiding something from us.”

Kell didn’t say anything. He knew that if Athos asked, he’d find the unbeatable compulsion to answer. He could only guide the conversation as best he could.

“You know how she treasures you.”

Not _loves._ Treasures.

Kell felt the blade press just a little bit harder against his neck. He could be killed in this very moment, his throat slit open for Athos to easy hold a cup beneath and no Astrid around to save him.

“I know.”

Athos leered at him.

“Then why do you stray from us for longer and longer?”

Kell felt the words bubble and nearly burst in his chest. He grit his teeth and tried to speak with as much control as possible.

_“...Red London…”_

A partial truth, a partial lie.

As predicted, Athos’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“Is their magic truly that powerful? Enough to lure you away?”

Kell’s research was in Red London, the Prince, arguably his only ally, was in Red London, the magic that may one day set Kell free was in Red London.

“Yes.”

A partial truth, a partial lie.

Athos pulled the dagger away in favor of gripping Kell’s chin with his hand. He leaned in close and Kell could see the _desire_ and _hunger_ in his eyes so much more.

“Is it worth taking?”

Kell looked directly into his king’s eyes.

“Yes.”

A partial truth, a partial lie. Kell could take their magic easily, because _Antari_ and magic went hand in hand, but Red could outmatch White any day.

For a second, Kell thought that maybe he’d be let free. Athos had let go of him and gently ran his hand through his sweat-soaked red hair. Athos had a hungry, far-away look in his eyes, as if he were dreaming of bleeding Red London dry.

Then the tip of the knife pressed against Kell’s chest, where his compelling seal was. Kell visibly shivered under the touch.   

“For your sake, it better be everything we’ve ever heard about and more.”

Athos began to re-apply the seal with vigor, pressing more deeply than Kell had ever felt before. Kell hissed through his teeth and dug his nails into the metal cuffs around his wrists.

“And remember Kell,”

Athos’ eyes flicked up to meet Kell’s. The edge of his knife was still buried in Kell’s flesh.

“No matter what Astrid claims, you’re only our brother for as long as you behave.”

  



End file.
